


Even Monsters Smile

by Atharianias (KrismMoon)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internal Conflict, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrismMoon/pseuds/Atharianias
Summary: Before you blame me for this, or call me a monster - you have to understand. This had nothing to do with you. Or even me. We are nothing. This is just a game. I was you once, now I am the monster walking out the door. And one day, you will walk through this very door, and you won't look back. We never do.





	Even Monsters Smile

"Smile."

_Smile, pretty girl. The world loves seeing a smile._

She stretches her lips until they look phoney. She frowns automatically, erasing the caricature in the mirror. She sighs deeply, closes her eyes and counts to three. She opens them, and ignores the rising churning in her stomach.

She smiles again, experimenting with showing her teeth and keeping them hidden. Against her will, she puffs out her cheeks and rolls her eyes, annoyed and anxious about the night ahead. It was the finale...

_No! No, no. Smile, or you don't get to go out like you wanted to._

She bites her bottom lip, but does so carefully, ensuring her teeth don't make her bleed. That would definitely ruin the smile.

She takes a deep breath and smiles gently, letting just the edges of her lips lift. Be confident, she thinks. Seductive and poised. But something is missing...

_Your eyes. Smile with your eyes. People feel like you mean it when your eyes smile, even when your lips are still._

She squints her eyes slightly, trying to remember vague moments from her past and how she must have looked. She stares into her eyes and _smiles._

She freezes, feeling a faint tremor race up her spine. It looks real - too real. Her eyes widen thoughtlessly, and the depth of her fear translates clearly for the first time that night. Immediately, she blinks rapidly, smile contorted and affixed grotesquely to her lips.

The floor outside the bathroom creaks and she pales, but her mouth crafts a gentle smile without her volition. When the door opens, she is ready, hair washed and curled, her dress long and flowing, and of course, she is adorned by a beautiful smile that speaks of earnest joy.

"You look so happy. So beautiful."

The words make her blush, but she doesn't move. She continues to watch passively, smile painted on and unmoving.

"Are you ready to leave?"

She nods, remembering to appear perfectly neutral - too eager and he would become resentful, too apprehensive and he would become protective and clingy.

She passes the test.

The door opens wider and she steps passed him and walks to the front door.

He helps her into her shoes. As he envelops her in his embrace, she fights back the nausea and kisses him sweetly.

"Remember. You promised to pick something special up for me tonight." It's whispered into her ear, as though she doesn't know that this is the only reason he unbolted her door this morning.

Her eyes close, and she buries her head in his shoulder even as she murmurs her assent.

That night, she leaves the house under his watchful gaze, and dances in every nightclub she can find, a stolen credit card readily presented to buy drinks and create an attractive image. And when she finds that perfect woman, she concentrates on coaxing her into spending the night. She feels triumphant when the woman can scarcely tear her eyes away from her cultivated face; she'd practiced _that smile_ nightly in front of the small compact mirror she had found tucked under her mattress to get it just right.

She slips her hand down the woman's back. Feeling the shiver that results from her calculated seduction makes her heart twinge and eyes burn. She turns her face into the woman's neck and whispers an invitation. When she pulls back, she is wearing _that smile_ again. The woman softens, nodding.  As they climb into the taxi, the woman reaches over the middle seat and starts to stroke her fidgeting hands. The woman is speaking to her, telling her little tidbits about herself, but all she can hear is his gentle whisper in her ears, the first thing he had said to her that morning:

_Remember to smile. Everyone is fooled by that smile, sweetheart._

_How do you think I got you?_

**Author's Note:**

> This was a slow one to write, and it came out in fragmented chunks, so I had to write in the holes for it to make sense. I decided to post it because I put effort into it, and I liked how it unfolded in front of me - truly, I was in the dark about what was going on for most of the writing process. As always, thank you for reading, and if you have constructive criticism, drop a comment.


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